


stuck in a daze

by apaixono



Series: Neighbors AU [6]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:18:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8867290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apaixono/pseuds/apaixono
Summary: Kyungsoo is drunk and makes bad decisions. He wishes it were just as simple as that.





	

Kyungsoo is drunk.

Okay, so he's normally not buzzed on a Friday night, sprawled on a sofa while nursing his—fourth? Fifth?—beer. Sure, he's had his fair share of parties, and he's not opposed to a good drink and a solid playlist after a harrowing week, but there's a reason why Baekhyun calls him an old man sometimes: he's cranky, he dances weird when sober, and he likes staying in. That includes weekends. Especially this weekend.

See, someone new moved into their complex—Kim Jongdae, a short man with kittenish features, a sharp tongue, and a double major in philosophy and applied music. He's Baekhyun's classmate in most of his music classes, and Kyungsoo could tell they're quite close by how both men jumped and screamed once Jongdae stepped out of his car with an overstuffed backpack one fine Saturday morning. He could also tell Jongdae is a very social person by the way he shook Kyungsoo's hand enthusiastically and proclaiming, "We'll be the bestest of friends!" immediately after Baekhyun has introduced the both of them. It was a bit overwhelming so early in the morning, but Kyungsoo took it all in stride with a hesitant smile and hefted a few boxes up to the fourth floor.

His hunch about Jongdae's sociability was proven to be true when the latter excitedly bounced to where Kyungsoo and Baekhyun are lounging at Baekhyun's tiny balcony three days after he moved in. Kyungsoo barely had time to look up from his textbook, let alone figure out how Jongdae managed to enter his friend's apartment, when he announced his housewarming party this Friday.

"Well, technically, it's an apartment-warming party, but semantics, right?" Jongdae shrugged. "Anyway, it's gonna be a great time. A lot of people are going. You both should go, too."

"Ah, see, it's not really my kind of scene—" Kyungsoo started to say, but Baekhyun cut him off abruptly with a huge smile.

"Count us in!" The music major nodded, accepting Jongdae's fist bump and pointedly ignoring Kyungsoo's horrified face. "I'll be sure to drag Soo here along."

"I'll help carry him if I have to," Jongdae laughed before bidding them goodbye and zooming off like the little hurricane of energy he was, leaving a shell-shocked Kyungsoo in his wake.

Kyungsoo wasn't supposed to go. He had a paper to write, psychological tests to evaluate, and a short film to edit for his org. But Baekhyun all but dragged him out of his apartment, citing how he's the only one not going _and even my crush from 408 is going, you know he doesn't leave his apartment_ and _Jongdae is expecting you there, we don't want to let him down, do we?_

Like hell. They've been acquainted for a week.

But the fact alone that Baekhyun and Jongdae are close friends is enough for Kyungsoo to know that he—or anyone else, for that matter—is powerless against their persuasion, and so that's why he finds himself slumped on a slightly misshapen couch, beer can almost empty and vision blurring ever so slightly. Someone switched the awful mashups to somewhat more acceptable Drake EDM remixes, another one dropped off a cooler of bottled cocktails, and a group is setting up a game of beer pong in the corner. He's probably the only one not socializing, but after numerous rounds of Flip Cup and a line of strawberry vodka shots, he doesn't have the energy for small talk. He sighs and rubs his eyes tiredly, wanting nothing else but to curl up and sleep.

Of course, the universe takes this as its cue to disturb his peace, and Jongdae suddenly drops beside him, the liquid in his red cup sloshing dangerously close to Kyungsoo's white button-up. "Last time I checked, the party's over there," He says amusedly, gesturing with his chin. "Why are you here brooding, Kyungsoo?"

"I'm tired. I told you this isn't really my scene," Kyungsoo complains. "Can I go home yet?"

"Are you kidding me? The party's just begun!" Jongdae nudges him with a pointy elbow. "C'mon, get up and let's go where the fun is. Get a drink, dance a bit, maybe hook up with someone! It's the weekend, man, relax!"

"I really don't want to move right now, Jongdae," Kyungsoo grunts. "I'll be fine here. Don't worry about me."

"You're no fun," The latter huffs. "Wait here, I'll get you something to loosen up."

"Jongdae—" Kyungsoo tries to say, but Jongdae jumps up and makes a beeline for the kitchen without another word. He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to stave off the incoming headache that comes from drinking too much cheap beer. He really should go home now, drink water, maybe take a shower if he feels like it. Jongdae probably forgot about him already, melting back into the crowd of drunken college students dancing in the other side of the room. And with the strobe lights making it hard to see, he can easily sneak out and go back to the solace of his apartment. They all won't know someone already snuck off to sleep.

But before he could pull himself up, Jongdae comes back with two bottles of alcohol, a couple of red cups, and... Junmyeon?

"Found another brooder like you in the kitchen. You both need to loosen up," Jongdae huffs, tugging the elder so he all but stumbles into the empty space beside Kyungsoo on the couch, his knees hitting Kyungsoo's thighs. "Go talk or drink or make out, I don't know. Just stop moping alone in secluded corners."

Kyungsoo and Junmyeon both blush deeply at that, the latter spluttering excuses that fall on deaf ears. Jongdae simply rolls his eyes before going back to the party, red cup held aloft like a trophy, and leaving them alone in a too-small couch with two bottles of alcohol and a lot of awkwardness.

"So," Junmyeon begins, rubbing his neck awkwardly. It's endearing, even in the poor lighting, the way his cheeks are bright and pink and his smile is sheepish. "Um. Hi."

"Hello, hyung," Kyungsoo replies just as awkwardly. "Uh. Great party?"

"We can go with that, yeah," Junmyeon laughs, running a hand through his hair—which, Kyungsoo notices, is now a bubblegum pink. It falls softly just above his eyes in an artfully tousled way, and it's so, so attractive Kyungsoo wants to cry. "So, uh, what brings you here?"

"Baekhyun. He accepted the invite for the both of us," He says, wrapping both of his hands around his drink to resist the temptation of reaching up and touching Junmyeon's hair. Stupid drunken urges. “I thought of sneaking out, but then Jongdae dropped you off here." _Not that I mind_.

"I had the same idea actually, but apparently he's watching the door like a hawk," Junmyeon frowns. "Anyone who isn't leaving to get a room, he drags back and forces them to dance. I think you have to be attached to someone to be able to leave this unit."

"If that's what it takes then I am willing to take one for the team," Kyungsoo replies, chugging the last of his beer. Only when Junmyeon blushes a brilliant pink did the meaning of his words sink in, and he chokes. "Oh! I didn't mean it like—I uh—not like that, but—you see—um, do you want a drink?"

"...I do, thanks," Junmyeon laughs nervously, opening the first bottle between them and pouring a generous amount on one of the cups before handing it to Kyungsoo. It turns out to be whiskey. "You know, you're much more talkative when you're drunk."

"Oh, uh, yeah, it's kind of my problem," Kyungsoo says sheepishly. "It's annoying, I know. Sorry."

"Oh, don't be, please. I find it endearing, actually." The elder smiles, open and honest. "It just made me realize how seldom we talk just like this, and how little we know about each other. I mean, we've been living beside each other for, what, almost four months?"

"Five," Kyungsoo corrects, a little too fast and eager to hide his enthusiasm. But hey, he's drunk. He can get away with most things. "And yeah, I suppose. I mean, your hair's pink now! I didn't even know!"

"Ah, yeah, I wanted a change," Junmyeon chuckles nervously, running a hand through his hair again. Kyungsoo's hand itches to touch it, too. "Jongin convinced me to dye it something other than brown."

"It's nice," He says absently, and Junmyeon's blush intensifies. "Um. So, how are your classes?"

"Is this 20 Questions? Are we so bored we're resorting to drinking games?" Junmyeon laughs. "Or are we so awkward that we need alcohol to socialize?"

"A little of both, I guess," Kyungsoo laughs along, tipping his cup towards the elder. "Asker takes a drink afterwards?"

"Deal. I'll go first, then," Junmyeon grins, lightly tapping his half-full cup against Kyungsoo's. "So, Kyungsoo, how are your classes?"

"Hey, you stole _my_ question," He huffs, but there's no bite in his tone as he swirls his drink around. "They're tiring. I have to do a lot of stuff for next week, but I got dragged by Baekhyun, and you know how he is."

"Oh, believe me, I do," Junmyeon winces, taking a gulp of whiskey that seems too big to be comfortable. "Your turn, then."

"Okay, um," Kyungsoo racks his (inebriated, tired) brain for good questions. "Uh...seen any good movies lately?"

"I can't believe we're a quarter into this bottle and we're still at small talk," The elder laughs. "And no, I haven't. It's been a tough few weeks, this is the first night that I didn't spend holed up in my bedroom, cramming personality theories."

"You ask better questions, then," He challenges, draining his cup. The whiskey burns as it goes down his throat, but it's not as unpleasant as it was a few hours ago.

"Alright, since were in the topic of movies," Junmyeon hums, sipping his drink idly even if it wasn't his turn. "If you'd take someone out on a movie date, which movie would you watch?"

"Easy. Star Wars," Kyungsoo answers. "Do I even have to explain why?"

"No explanation needed," Junmyeon grins. "Your date will be a lucky one, I'm sure."

 _That could be you, if you want_. "My turn, then," Kyungsoo says instead, taking the bottle and refilling his cup. "So speaking of dates, what's your ideal date?"

"From small talk to dates, huh? This whiskey sure works fast," Junmyeon chuckles. "I'm admittedly a clichéd guy, so I like the typical romantic stuff. Movie dates, dinner dates, walks in the park, those kinds of stuff. But really, as long as I'm with someone I like, I don't mind what we're doing."

"I don't know why old school dates like those get so much flak. I personally would love to be taken out on a cliché date," He hums around his cup. _Maybe you can take one for the team and ask_ me _out_. "Anyway. Your turn, hyung."

"Ah, drop the hyung, please. I told you this before, I'm fine with you calling me Junmyeon," The elder waves him off. "It makes me feel older than I actually am. And besides, we're good friends, right? S'fine."

"Old habits die hard, I suppose," Kyungsoo says. "Your question?"

"Right. Hmm," Junmyeon taps his chin thoughtfully. "How do you like your steak?"

Kyungsoo chokes on his drink, taken aback at the latter's question. "Really, what kind of question is that?" He snorts. "Stop wasting your questions, hyung."

"Stop calling me hyung first," Junmyeon challenges, grinning. "C'mon, just answer the question."

"Well, I prefer it medium," Kyungsoo answers. "Why, are you going to take me on a steak dinner or something?"

Junmyeon merely laughs, hiding his smile behind his cup. "Maybe. We'll see. Anyway, my turn," He quickly says without missing a beat, before Kyungsoo could react at his not so neutral answer. "Star Wars or Star Trek?"

"I'll make you finish this bottle if you keep on wasting your questions, I swear," Kyungsoo threatens as he uncaps the bottle and refills both of their cups. It's almost empty. "Star Wars. Duh."

"Just making sure," Junmyeon winks, and a part of Kyungsoo dies inside. "Your turn."

"Alright, since we're wasting questions," He quips, earning him a playful, almost flirtatious nudge on the shoulder. "Who's your favorite Pokémon?"

"Oh! Oh! Bulbasaur!" Junmyeon lights up, his eyes bright with a childlike innocence that not even the haze of alcohol can mitigate. "I've always loved Bulbasaur. No one asks you that these days, you know? They assume that if you like Pokémon, you like Pikachu. But Bulbasaur's cool, too, no matter what water type trainers say. Grass Pokémon is the shit. I mean, they're not weak, you just have to know how to utilize them well."

"You're awfully invested in this," Kyungsoo notes amusedly, endeared at the way Junmyeon talks excitedly, gesturing with his cup and chatting in a high-pitched tone. "You must really like Pokémon."

"I do. Keeps me sane," The latter beams. "My turn, I guess? Hmm... Do you like pineapples on pizza?"

"I'm not a picky eater, so I don't mind," He answers. "But I do mind how we're transitioning back to small talk."

"Guess we're just both too socially awkward for heart to hearts," Junmyeon shakes his head, chuckling. "Your turn, then."

"Alright," Kyungsoo hums, thinking of a good question that does not fall under the category of small talk. But the whiskey (among all the other drinks he had tonight) makes his brain all muddled and blank, and so he comes up short. "Uh... Coffee or tea?"

"Or you?" Junmyeon teases, and Kyungsoo chokes on his drink. "Is this a question or a pick up line?"

"No—I—I didn't mean it like that!" Kyungsoo splutters, extremely flustered. "I meant the drinks. Like how you take your caffeine. Not the coffee tea or me thing. No. I— _no_."

"And here I thought you're flirting. I'm kidding, I'm kidding!" The elder laughs, placing his free hand on top of Kyungsoo's knee and squeezing reassuringly when he splutters again. "Small talk it is. I like coffee. Americano, to be specific. But I don't mind tea, either, especially on days when I just want to unwind."

"Duly noted," Kyungsoo squeaks, downing the rest of his drink to hide his increasingly red face. He reaches for the whiskey bottle, only to find out it's empty. Shit.

"Oh, do you want another drink? Wait, the other one's here—" Junmyeon moves away to grab the second bottle from behind him.

It's tequila. _Shit_.

"Well, I'm sure this'll stop the small talk," Junmyeon notes amusedly, pouring a sizable amount into both of their cups. "We're halfway with our questions, anyway. Think we should tweak the rules a bit?"

"W-what do you mean?" He asks tentatively. This does not sound like a good idea.

"Hmm, what about we can only answer with yes or no?" The elder says, smile a little crooked and a little drunk. "No small talk, like do you like weekends or something, but anything else is fair game. What do you think?"

Yup, this is definitely a bad idea. A _really_ bad idea. Say no say no say no say no—

"Sure," Kyungsoo agrees, tapping the rim of his cup against Junmyeon's.

_Damn it._

"Alright, my turn. There's something I've been wanting to ask, actually," Junmyeon begins, swirling his cup ever so slightly. There's a hint of nervousness in his actions, the way he's hesitating. "Do you, um, like my hair? I mean, my pink hair?"

"Um, yes?" Kyungsoo answers, honest but tentative. Unsure. "Are you wasting questions again?"

"No! No, I'm not. I'm just—" The latter sighs and runs a hand through his hair, the pink strands stark against his pale fingers. "You kept glancing at it ever since I got dumped here. You seem... I don't know. Conflicted."

Shit. Kyungsoo didn't mean to stare. Or get caught staring, for that matter. He gulps audibly and his gaze flickers unconsciously to Junmyeon's pink hair. "Oh. I um. Didn't mean to make you uncomfortable? It's uh—"

"You can tell me if it's bad," Junmyeon continues, frowning slightly. "I mean, it was a product of a decision Jongin and I made half-asleep. If it's horrible or something I could—"

"No! No, it's not," Kyungsoo quickly amends, shaking his head. "It's great. It looks great, actually. You look great. Like really great."

Foot, meet mouth. _Damn you, tequila._

Junmyeon looks surprised at the compliment, but he visibly lets it slide. Thank you, Junmyeon. "Oh. That's um, good to hear," He says. "But I'm still curious though, about the whole, uh, staring thing."

Shit. He has two options here: one, lie like a dog. Two, come clean. His mind, heart, body, and inner being wants the first one. The alcohol in his system wants the second. Naturally, he chooses the latter. "I was thinking of how soft it looks. Makes me want to touch it."

"Oh." Junmyeon, to his surprise, flushes a brilliant pink, from the tips of his ears to his cheeks to his exposed neck and even below the collar of his black polo shirt that is very distracting, too. "Well, um, you could. If you want."

"Can I?" Kyungsoo echoes. The elder nods, blush deepening ever so slightly in a way that he's sure is not caused by the tequila. With a shaky breath, he reaches up and slowly runs his hand through Junmyeon's hair, carding it gently. He's right, it is soft, surprisingly soft for dyed locks. It's getting a bit longer, almost reaching his eyes when the strands fall between his fingers and tumble onto Junmyeon's forehead. It's almost cathartic, combing Junmyeon's hair. Junmyeon doesn't seem to be finding it awkward, either—to Kyungsoo's surprise, he lets out a soft, happy sigh and leans on the sofa, curling up near Kyungsoo and leaning to the touch.

"But you like it, right?" He mumbles, closing his eyes. Kyungsoo takes this opportunity to move a bit closer. "The dye job, I mean."

"Why do you care so much about what I think about your hair?" Kyungsoo says, continuing his ministrations gently. He thinks Junmyeon is slowly dozing off, and he doesn't really want to disturb him. "That's my question, by the way."

"I trust your judgment," Junmyeon says softly, barely heard over the loud music. There's a slight slur in his words, probably from the alcohol and his drowsiness, but the sincerity is there all the same. "And your opinion means a lot to me."

"You're drunk. You're spouting nonsense," Kyungsoo snorts, even as his heart constricts painfully in his chest. He pauses his ministrations to take a swig of tequila and chase it away, the burn in his throat distracting enough. "But since I'm nice—" _and a little drunk_ , "—I'll indulge you." He hums softly as he continues combing Junmyeon's hair, blunt nails occasionally scratching his scalp. "You look good in pink, but I really like your black hair better."

"Mmkay," Junmyeon says sleepily, curling up even further into the couch. Kyungsoo moves closer so he can rest his head on his shoulder, their knees bumping together.

"Don't fall asleep on me," Kyungsoo says amusedly. "We still have like, eight questions and more than half a bottle of tequila. Don't leave me here."

"Not my fault you're making me drowsy," Junmyeon retorts, but there's no real bite in his tone. "You're so gentle. Your partner must be lucky to have you."

"Yeah, sure, and I'd be lucky to even have a partner in the first place." Kyungsoo snorts loudly at that. To his surprise, the elder suddenly pulls away, looking much more awake than he was a few moments ago.

(He can't say he doesn't miss the warmth, the softness of his hair under his fingertips, but he lets his hand fall back onto his lap quietly. It's not like he can say anything about it.)

"You're not seeing anyone right now?" Junmyeon asks, incredulous. "But Jongin told me—"

"If this is about the Korean-American guy from my art appreciation class that he saw me talking to last week, I don't want to hear the end of it," Kyungsoo holds up a hand, annoyed. "He was just asking about the report we're having next Wednesday. I don't even know his name."

"So you aren't seeing anyone right now?" Junmyeon presses on, undeterred. There's a fire in his eyes that couldn't be hidden behind the haze of alcohol. His shoulders are tense, almost like he's waiting for an answer.

"No, Junmyeon, I am not seeing anyone right now," Kyungsoo says slowly, and for some unexplainable reason, Junmyeon visibly relaxes. "I don't understand why you're so worked up over this."

"I'm not. I'm just—never mind," Junmyeon shakes his head, running a hand through his hair again. His new nervous tick, Kyungsoo supposes. "Your turn, then."

Right. They're still playing. Maybe Junmyeon was just curious, or wasting his questions again. Well, two can play at that game. "What about you? Are you seeing someone right now?" He asks. "Someone keeping you warm at night?"

"Hah, I wish. It's the season for couples, as you know, and the holidays are quite unforgiving on the single population," Junmyeon shakes his head, smiling ruefully. "But there is someone on my mind right now. Been there for a while, actually, but it looks like they're not going anywhere else any time soon, if you know what I mean, so I'm just going to have to buy scarves to keep myself warm."

 _Oh_. Kyungsoo's heart aches again for the second time that night, almost like he can feel the latter's longing. And he does, he really does. The way Junmyeon talks about this person is like the way he thinks of the elder, a wishful sort of pining that is the stuff of romcoms and chick literature since the beginning of time. He wishes he's the one Junmyeon is thinking about. He'd be more than willing to keep him warm on the cold days, protect him from sadness, and make sure he never gets that sad tinge in his tone ever again. He feels jealousy flood his stomach, at this unnamed stranger that might just be the luckiest person in the world, and he chases the feeling again with another big swig of tequila.

"So since we're in the topic of relationships," Junmyeon continues, refilling both their cups—the bottle's half-empty by now, and Kyungsoo knows they're going to encroach dangerous territory very, _very_ soon. He gulps nervously, hiding it behind his cup. "Are you looking for someone right now? Because some aren't, and that's fine, but what about you?"

"Yes and no," Kyungsoo says. There's something that just makes him want to spill his feelings to Junmyeon—perhaps the tequila, or the way Junmyeon bared his own feelings so easily, or just the fact that he's so tired of dancing around the elder—but he didn't want to make things awkward, so he settles for a filtered version. "I have someone in mind as well, so I feel like if I actively look for someone, I'll just end up comparing them to y—that person."

"Same. It's so hard to move on, right? They're like the gold standard, and everyone else is just bronze or something," Junmyeon shrugs tiredly, taking a gulp of tequila too big to be comfortable. He doesn't seem to have noticed his almost slip up.

"Tell me about it," Kyungsoo snorts, taking a sip of his drink as well. "So, tell me about something else. About your crush, this...gold standard. Do I know them?"

Name: Do Kyungsoo's hopes and dreams. Cause of death: curiosity about Junmyeon's love life. External factors include: excessive alcohol intake, Junmyeon's sad eyes.

"Oh, yeah, you definitely know him." Junmyeon laughs. "It's impossible for you not to know him."

Time of death: at this very moment.

"I do? Interesting." Kyungsoo taps his chin in mock thought, hoping that the motion masks his shaking fingers. So Junmyeon wants someone in his circle, but not Kyungsoo. Fantastic. He must've missed the memo or something.

"My turn. And since you dropped such a big bomb on me, I'm returning the favor," Junmyeon says, smirking a little bit. It's annoying and undeniably hot but it also makes Kyungsoo nervous. He gulps audibly again as Junmyeon inches closer, eyes intense. "Ready?"

"Y-you bet," He stammers, trying to hide his nervousness. He fails greatly, and Junmyeon's smirk widens.

"So, Kyungsoo," The latter begins, tilting his head slightly to appear innocent. "Do you have a crush on someone in the apartment complex?"

Fuck his life.

"Pass," Kyungsoo squeaks, and Junmyeon laughs again, eyes crinkling in the way he loves so much.

"Yes or no, Kyungsoo," The elder says, grinning. He's really close now, a few inches away from Kyungsoo's face, and it's not doing wonders for his sanity. "You agreed."

"Not to these kinds of questions!" Kyungsoo protests. "Hyung, it's unfair, this question—"

"—is answerable by yes or no, and does not qualify under small talk," Junmyeon counters easily. "And I thought I told you not to call me hyung?"

"It slipped. Just, please, next question," Kyungsoo pleads, and the only thing that Junmyeon does is to lean even closer—dear God have mercy on his soul—and poke him on the cheek fondly. "Pass. My answer is pass."

"You're no fair, Soo." The nickname rolls so easily off of the elder's tongue, like it's something that he always says. It's fond and playful and a tiny bit endeared, and Kyungsoo doesn't know how to interpret that. "C'mon, I won't tell anyone. I promise."

"Nope," He says firmly, turning his head away and squeezes his eyes shut, lest he be subjected to Junmyeon's puppy dog eyes. No, he will not answer this question and quite possibly let his feelings surface. Nope, nope, _nope_.

To his surprise, the finger poking his cheek pulls away, only to be replaced by a soft, warm hand cradling his jaw in the gentlest way he has ever felt. The hand slowly guides his head back to face straight, thumb softly rubbing patterns on his skin, and Kyungsoo couldn't help but follow the touch. Once it stops, he slowly opens his eyes to see Junmyeon staring back at him, face impossibly close to his. His breath fans in warm puffs of lime tequila-smelling air, and Kyungsoo should hate it, but he couldn't bring himself to. Junmyeon's eyes are earnest, sincere and bright, but as Kyungsoo finds himself staring back, he sees a tinge of nervousness in them, the same kind of tension the elder had when he asked if he was seeing someone.

"Please?" Junmyeon whispers, as soft and gentle as his touch. And there's something in his eyes, perhaps the uncertainty in them that makes his stare a little sadder, or perhaps the way his thumb unceasingly moves against his cheek, both to comfort and to release unfettered anxiety, or perhaps the proximity that's making him light headed and out of breath. Whatever it is, Kyungsoo just couldn't seem to pull away or say no. And he knows it's a huge gamble—with a single answer he can lay down all of his cards for Junmyeon to see. Yet he finds himself not caring at all, senses overloaded with Junmyeon to even feel any nervousness at all.

"Yes," Kyungsoo says softly, shakily, almost unheard over the loud pounding bass. But Junmyeon hears it nonetheless, and he freezes. His hand falls away and lands bonelessly onto Kyungsoo's shoulder, his eyes wide and brimming with a myriad of emotions and questions, his mouth still stained pink by the punch Jongdae made everyone drink once they step inside the apartment and slightly parted. Kyungsoo's own mouth goes dry.

"Oh." The latter looks like he wants to say something else, but he licks his lips nervously—Kyungsoo's heart stutters—and decides against it. "I can't ask you who it is, can't I?"

"Nope." He should know better, he was the one who set the new rules. And for the first time that night Kyungsoo is glad they changed the game, because Junmyeon still has a question left and he doesn't know what to do if he asks who it is.

Junmyeon sighs and closes his eyes, moving his hand away and leaning against the sofa once more. He's still close, though, too close for Kyungsoo's sanity. "Your turn, then."

"Alright." He already has his question, but Kyungsoo takes a sip of tequila to squash the nervousness anyway. All or nothing. "Do you have a crush on someone in the apartment complex?"

He expects Junmyeon to reply listlessly, judging from his slumped form beside him. He expects Junmyeon to laugh and say it's a preposterous idea. He expects Junmyeon to deny it vehemently to the point that it becomes obvious that he does. And he doesn't blame him, because someone new moved on the second floor and even Kyungsoo found him attractive. (But his heart is loyal to Junmyeon, and it made it much easier to look away from his gym shorts and tight soccer jersey.)

He does not expect Junmyeon to straighten up, to reach up once again and cradle his face with a warm hand like it's something so precious, to lean impossibly closer that if Kyungsoo so much as moves his head a fraction to the side, their noses will brush. He does not expect Junmyeon's stare to be even more intense, like what he's about to say means the world to him, like Kyungsoo means the world to him. They stare at each other, tension palpable in the air—it could be seconds, minutes, or hours, for all Kyungsoo knows or cares—before Junmyeon opens his mouth to reply.

"Yes."

Kyungsoo's heart stops.

"You're not going to ask who it is?" Junmyeon smiles slightly, just a quirk of the corner of his lips. He still hasn't moved away. Kyungsoo's not sure if his heart has restarted already.

"I can't," He mumbles, and mentally pats himself on the back for keeping his voice steady. "We just established this."

Junmyeon laughs at that, and Kyungsoo so badly wants to lean in. But he balls his hands into fists and doesn't, because not even all the alcohol he ingested tonight can give him enough courage for that. "Touché." He says, smile widening. That smile is really dangerous to his health. It's what made him fall for the other man in the first place, and having it so close to him is making his head go all woozy. He's not even sure why, they're just a set of perfect rows of perfect white teeth, and perfect pink lips stretched wide until small perfect dimples show on his perfect pale cheeks. But here he is, enamored with it, enamored with Junmyeon as a person, and to have him right up his face is making him want to—

Junmyeon clears his throat subtly, and Kyungsoo quickly averts his gaze back up to meet his eyes and holy shit he was caught staring at his stupid perfect mouth he was not supposed to be caught staring oh my god Junmyeon probably hates him he thinks he's a creep and he'll—

—lean even closer?

Maybe Kyungsoo's drunker than he thinks he is because Junmyeon is definitely inching closer, eyes flickering down to his lips before moving back up to hold his gaze. And despite the haze of drunkenness his state is intense, resolute and determined and oh, they are really doing this. This is really happening.

Junmyeon stops just a few inches away from his face, their noses brushing and breaths intermingling and it should be unpleasant, with the smell of alcohol clinging to both of them, but it isn't. "Can I kiss you?" He murmurs, soft and gentle like his touch on Kyungsoo's jaw.

"Is that your question?" Kyungsoo replies just as quietly, and he wants to pull away just to do a victory dance because _smooth, Do Kyungsoo, that was smooth as fuck_. Except he doesn't. Kissing your long time crush first, victory dancing later.

"Yeah. It is. Save the best for last, as they say," The elder chuckles, eyes half-lidded, and okay, Kyungsoo is glad he didn't dance merrily because wow, that was smoother. Junmyeon can be a sweet talker if he wants to. (Kyungsoo hopes he always does. He doesn't mind constantly melting in a puddle of goo for that.)

"Then yes," He replies, and he closes his eyes as they slowly move closer, together. Their noses brush one more time before Kyungsoo feels Junmyeon's breath tickling his cheek before finally, finally, the gap between them slowly becomes so minuscule that at any moment now, their lips will—

"Kyungsoo!"

The two of them jolt apart in surprise, Kyungsoo immediately pushing him away and Junmyeon quickly retracting his hand not long after as the piercing shriek cut through their trance. They both turn to see Baekhyun wobbling towards them, a half-drunk bottle of soju loosely held in one hand. He looks like he's about to fall over at any moment, and Kyungsoo quickly clambers up to support him as he tips to the left very dangerously.

"I've been looking everywhere for you," Baekhyun says, words a little too slurred to be comprehensible by an equally inebriated person. "Soo, I want a sandwich."

"...A sandwich?" Kyungsoo repeats flatly. He missed out the opportunity of a lifetime for his friend's drunken cravings?

"Uh huh. A BLT. Or a PB&J. Or a—or a—another acronym," Baekhyun babbles, grinning crookedly at him. "I want a sandwich. Make me a sandwich, Soo."

Kyungsoo glances back at Junmyeon, chewing on his bottom lip hesitantly, but the elder waves him off with a small smile. Gone was his bright, wide grin, his confident, suave smirk; it was replaced by a simple upturn of the corner of his lips. Kyungsoo's heart aches. "Go. Take care of him," He says. His tone is almost sad; Kyungsoo couldn't be sure, because the DJ decided to play sad love songs and he just pulled away from almost kissing the love of his life, everything is sad.

"Alright, let's make you a sandwich," He sighs, steering Baekhyun—who has started singing Secret Love Song, of all songs, from the top of his lungs—towards the kitchen to make him some food. Jongdae doesn't have sliced bread or peanut butter, so Kyungsoo improvises and makes Baekhyun an almond butter and peach preserve bagel sandwich. He doesn't know what it tastes like sober, but the music major polishes it off in a jiffy, chugging down a glass of water before promptly passing out on the dining table.

Of course. Typical Byun Baekhyun.

With another sigh, Kyungsoo helps him up, Baekhyun's arm loosely draped around his shoulders. "C'mon, I'll get you home," He says as they shuffle awkwardly out of the dining area. "But first, let me say goodbye to Ju—"

Junmyeon's gone.

"Who?" Baekhyun mumbles against his neck, his breath too hot and the smell of alcohol too strong to be pleasant.

Kyungsoo blinks at the empty couch, taking in the lack of bottles and cups and pink-haired boys. The cushions were put back neatly, and there was no sign that someone was there recently. He feels his heart break as he fixes his grip on Baekhyun's waist, trying his hardest not to make them both topple to the ground. "No one, Baek," He replies tiredly as they move towards the door. "Let's just go home."

Like a good friend, Kyungsoo walks Baekhyun back to his apartment, taking off his socks and belt and watch for him before covering him with his Rilakkuma blanket. He places a bucket on the foot of the bed and leaves a sheet of aspirin and a bottle of Gatorade on the bedside table. He even closes the blinds just to be sure that Baekhyun doesn't blind himself when he wakes up before locking up his friend's apartment.

Like a good boy, Kyungsoo drinks about three glasses of water and eats a cookie. He brushes his teeth, removes his contact lenses, and washes his face. He changes out of his polo and skinny jeans into more comfortable sweatpants and an oversized sweater. He brings out his grandmother's recipe cards for hangover soup and tacks them onto his bulletin board by the door, because he's sure he'll need it. Finally, he climbs onto his bed, wraps himself in his blankets, and dozes off.

(Like someone who's so used to pining that they're practically experts, he does not dwell on what happened that night. He chalks it up to the elder's drunkenness, files the memory away for another what if, and aggressively tries to moves on.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The copious amounts of water that he drank must've worked its magic, because when Kyungsoo finally wakes, the pounding in his head seems less like a full mariachi band and more like a baby enthusiastically playing a toy xylophone. Still, he groans and covers his eyes to shield them from the bright sunshine, wishing he didn't drink so much, or attended the party at all 

(If he didn't attend the party, then Junmyeon wouldn't have almost kissed him then ran away without a goodbye like he made the biggest mistake of his life.)

With another groan, Kyungsoo hauls himself out of bed and shuffles towards the kitchen, making himself some tea on the largest mug he can find. And because the world hates him, it's the Pokémon one Baekhyun gave to him because it doesn't "match his cupboard's aesthetic" (can cupboards even have an aesthetic?). But it's huge, it holds more green tea, and so Kyungsoo simply glares at it for a good few seconds before moving towards his tiny balcony.

The cold air is delightful on his flushed face, and Kyungsoo takes in a deep breath as he closes the door behind him. He likes his tiny balcony a lot. It overlooks the less busy side of Seoul, mostly houses and apartments and coffee shops. If he squints real hard, he can even see the beginnings of a hanok village. It's calming, the street below is relatively quieter, and the air is always cool and fresh. With a small smile, he leans on the railings and sips on his tea, slowly waking up with the city as the sun shines down on them all, making Seoul look warm with the oranges and browns despite the temperature closing on single digits.

The sound of a door scraping noisily against the floor startles Kyungsoo, and he turns to see Junmyeon padding out of his apartment, eyes half-closed as he sips on his own drink. His mug is even bigger than Kyungsoo's, a huge plain black thing that covers half of his face. Big, thin-rimmed glasses cover the upper half, slightly obscured by jet-black hair that falls—

Wait, what?

Junmyeon looks up and smiles as he sees Kyungsoo gaping at him. "Oh, hello Kyungsoo," He says, waving. "How's the hangover?"

"Your hair's _black_ ," Kyungsoo says in reply. There goes his smoothness from last night, flying into the wind and disappearing along with his hopes and dreams.

"Oh, yeah, I dyed it last night," Junmyeon says, reaching up to fumble with his fringe. "Drunken decisions that I regret because there was a mess of black on my shower floor this morning."

"When did you do it? After the party?" He asks. After you left without a word?

"I...don't remember, actually," Junmyeon frowns. "Last night was a blur. I really shouldn't have drunk that much."

"...You don't remember?" Kyungsoo echoes haltingly. "Anything?"

"Well, not all of it. I remember bits and pieces, like beating Jongdae at Boom Cup and Baekhyun trying to dance with the guy from 408, and talking to you a bit? We talked, right? Or was that another person?" Junmyeon rubs his eyes tiredly. "And being dragged by Jongdae somewhere, and the awful remixes, and...yeah. Just fuzzy stuff. I don't remember much after I went to the dining area."

Oh. So Junmyeon doesn't remember anything from last night. Kyungsoo doesn't know if he feels relieved or disappointed.

"Hey, what's with the face? Did I say something wrong? Did I do something stupid last night?" Junmyeon says worriedly. "Look, if I did, I'm—"

"No, no, it's fine. You um, you didn't do anything weird." Kyungsoo schools his expression back to neutrality even if his grip on his mug is so tight his knuckles are turning white. "I uh, I'll go back inside now. Need more tea."

"Right. Well, good luck on your hangover," Junmyeon nods, smiling but still looking hesitant. "See you, Kyungsoo."

"You too, hyung," Kyungsoo replies, and watches as something flashes across Junmyeon's face—was that disappointment?—before it's gone. He doesn't dwell on it though, and quickly makes his way back inside his apartment, placing his mug on the sink. Tea. He needs more tea. He needs tea and aspirin and his grandmother's hangover soup and maybe another nap and answers, God he wants answers and a coherent, lengthy explanation as what the fuck happened exactly last night, but he seems like he's not getting the last one anytime soon, so he puts another kettle of water to boil, gets his grandmother's recipe card, and moves to fetch ingredients inside his fridge.

Because if he's going to be confused about the whole thing, at least he's doing it without a hangover.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

_"Hyung, I don't think this is a good idea," Jongin says warily. Unlike Junmyeon, he didn't go to Jongdae's party because he had a big final tomorrow, but here he is, procrastinating by hanging out with Junmyeon. "You're drunk. Are you sure about this?"_

_"I'm sure, Jongin," Junmyeon smiles tiredly at him, tying the towel around his neck snugly. "Don't worry."_

_"Man, I know people get weird when they're drunk, but I didn't expect you to be this impulsive," The younger tuts, pulling on latex gloves. "I mean, dyeing your hair at one in the morning? What a hell of a drunken decision, hyung. You'll be in for a surprise tomorrow."_

_Junmyeon looks down at the box of black hair dye in his hands, empty now that Jongin's busy preparing the chemicals on his bathroom counter. In fine white print is a list of chemicals that he easily identifies because he took extra units of chemistry for a scholarship back when he was a freshman. A few hours ago he would've probably giggled at all the long names, but now that he's completely sober, he can think clearly—and remember clearly too, all that transpired that evening. Everything, from the various drinking games he joined to I like your black hair better to Kyungsoo pulling away faster than he could blink._

_"Yeah," He hums noncommittally, closing his eyes and leaning back on the chair as Jongin gets to work. "What a drunken decision, indeed."_

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently part 5 was up way back in August and I abandoned this for a good quarter of a year. WHOOPS. For complaints, please redirect them to my uni and my multiple orgs and the universe.
> 
> Anyway HELLO hope this monster of an installment makes up for how long this series has been MIA. Honestly missed writing about these two dorks so here you go, have some seemingly unrequited pining to warm you up the holidays. :) I have a holiday-themed installment up and I hope I can finish it before Christmas, but if I don't (bc I still have org work on the week of Christmas, whaaaaat) then consider this my early Christmas gift to everyone. Happy holidays!!!! May it be filled with love and warmth and good food and plentiful of sleep!!
> 
> Also pls welcome Jongdae my fave wingman on this AU!!! And welcome back for another cameo, Johnnyboy wassup


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